Nash's Update

Hi, it's me, Nash, again, just giving you an update on my previous post.

I'm doing a little better with scratching on doors. Well at least, sometimes I remember. When I don't, my mom makes me "sit" until she opens the door. It's just so exciting to think about what endless possibilities await me on the other side! My daddy is going to paint the doors I have scratched up soon, though, so they don't want me to mess them up again. I'm really going to try!

My mom has been working with me on heeling too, rather than yanking on my leash. I seem to get it, at least when she reminds me, but sometimes I see another dog or something else interesting and I forget all about heeling. It's hard; it really is!

As for my bunny-sister Heidi, I don't know what happened to her. One day she was there, and the next day she was gone! I keep looking around for her. I looked all over the downstairs. She just isn't there. I guess that will make it easier for me to keep my resolutions, at least the ones related to her. Poor Heidi. I should have been nicer to her. I hope that wherever she is, she is okay.

So that's my update. I'm going to keep trying to be a good boy. My parents know that I'm just a fun-loving sort of guy, and they don't want to squelch that completely, but they do want me to behave. They've just got to be patient with me while I try to remember all this stuff they want me to do.

A College Nightmare

I had another one last night. This one wasn't as bad as some, but it was definitely one of those. My college nightmares.

Does anyone else have these? Don says he does. I have them fairly regularly. You dream you are back at college in some disastrous situation: it's the first day of a semester, and you can't find your class; it's exam time, and you haven't been to class all semester; you forgot to wear pants to class . . . the list goes on. In the one last night, I was moving back into the dorm with my roommate, but everything in the room was all out of place. I've had several before along that line too.

Was college that stressful that I'm still having nighmares about it on a regular basis over 20 years later? I don't remember being THAT stressed at the time, but maybe I was too young to recognize stress for what it was.

I wonder if they'll ever stop. I wonder if I'll ever be able to resolve my college experiences within myself. Any psychiatrists out there who might be able to shed some light on this?

The Big Flurry

A new group was started on Facebook yesterday. At press time, it has 6,460 members and is growing by the hour. Its name: I survived the big Nashville snow flurry of 1/7/10.

People are using this site to post impressive snow pictures, such as snowmen they built: Why is this so funny?

Nashville is apparently pretty desperate for some “real” snow. Earlier in the week there were predictions that we would get up to 6 inches. It was later downgraded to 4 inches “in some areas,” and then to “up to 2 inches,” beginning between 3:00 and 6:00 a.m.

Even 2 inches would be the biggest snow we have gotten in recent years. Excitement mounted. Grocery stores were mobbed and completely sold out of milk, bread and other essentials. Crews got out and salted all the roads. Pretty much every single school system and private school in Middle Tennessee had already called off school by Wednesday night before a single flake fell.

We all prepared to wake up to a winter wonderland.

Thursday morning I jumped out of bed and looked out the window . . . at . . . nothing. Brown grass and bare sidewalks. Not even a flake falling from the sky. “Never fear,” said the weather people. “It will arrive around rush hour.” I didn’t know whether to go to my 8:00 meeting or not, but I really couldn’t justify staying home, since it wasn’t even snowing yet, so I went. When I got done at 9:00, nothing. “It’s still coming,” they said. “It will be here around noon!” The predicted accumulation had been reduced to half an inch.

Well, around mid-day we did begin to get a little snow. It stuck, because of the cold temperatures we have been having, but it could hardly be considered more than a dusting. Kids, while happy for the days off (they are out again today), were very disappointed that it wasn’t really enough to play in, though some tried. Thus the snowmen, pictured above. Oh well. I guess we have to take what we get.

Nash's New Year's Resolutions

I have decided to give my dog Nash a spot on my blog so he can share the resolutions that he plans to work on this year. Nash has come a long way in his behavior, but, like the rest of us, there are still a few rough edges that need to be smoothed out, so to provide him with some accountability, I encouraged him to get together a list and publish it here for all to see. Here is what he came up with:

I am going to stop jumping on doors and scratching them. I have not only scratched the paint off several doors in my own house; I also did it at my grandparents’ house in Iowa when my parents left me there for a couple of hours. This was when my mom and dad realized that this was a problem that needed to be corrected.

I am going to stop yanking on my leash. Several months ago I injured my mom’s shoulder (possibly a torn rotator cuff), and it still hasn’t healed. My mom may need to get me a choke collar or something similar to help me work on this problem.

I am going to stop trying to eat my bunny-sister, Heidi. Neither of my parents have really figured out how to help me with this, but they are working on it. I really wouldn’t want to eat Heidi. After all, she is my sister. I know rabbits are prey for dogs in the wild, but I get two square meals a day, so there’s no real need to supplement that. And while we’re on that topic, I am also going to stop yipping obnoxiously when I see her in her cage. My parents are working on a strategy to help me with that too. Nothing has really worked so far, except they have figured out that when they yell at me, I get more excited and yip louder.

I am going to stop eating paper. I like all sorts of paper: shredded phone book pages that I pull out of Heidi’s cage, and also tissues, napkins, and more. But that was the old Nash. That was before I found out that my cousin Lilly, a Bernese Mountain Dog, ate five potholders and had to have surgery. They, well you know, wouldn’t come out. It cost my Uncle David and Aunt Tricia a lot of money. And it couldn’t have been much fun for Lilly either. My mom says that while paper is probably not as bad as potholders, it could have the same effect on me. And that would be bad. So the new Nash is going to stop eating paper. My dog-sister Dasha shares my taste for it, so I’m hoping we can maybe hold each other mutually accountable or something.

This is my year. I really want to get it right. I want to be a good dog. I think I just need a better understanding of what’s expected of me. I’ll try to keep you updated on the progress I make if my mom will let me write on her blog again.

A Wild Ride

It was one of those days. I mean really, ONE OF THOSE DAYS!

It started out uneventful. We were headed to Iowa to see Don’s family for a Christmastime visit. Things went smoothly until shortly after we crossed the Illinois line. Then the snow started. We had already postponed this trip for a day to avoid the snow, but apparently we miscalculated. We drove through snow for several hours in Illinois. We counted about 20 cars and trucks in ditches along the side of the road, some turned over on their side. This didn’t make for a very relaxing trip.

We made a quick stop for gas and lunch. Don tried to use his credit card, and it was denied. Fortunately, he had the cash to cover what he needed, but he was concerned about why it was denied. We hoped it was just a fluke. When we got into Iowa, we had to get gas again. He tried to use his credit card, and it was again denied. He used what little cash he had left to buy enough gas to get us to his parents’, and when he later called to check, found out there had been “suspicious” activity on his card, so they had cancelled it. It turned out someone had stolen his number and made some purchases.

When we got to his parents’ house that night, exhausted and stressed, their driveway was already full of cars, so we had to drive around the block and park on a side street and walk. We had both of our dogs with us and quite a bit of stuff that needed to go in. It was then that I found out that these shoes, while comfortable for a car ride, are not suitable for walking through snow that was above our ankles and at least a foot deep in the banks we had to stand in to unload the car.

Later we left his parents’ house and went to the nearby hotel where we were staying. Don’s parents had graciously offered to pay for our stay there and had made the reservation, securing it with their credit card. Still with both dogs, we also hauled all of our luggage into the lobby before checking in.

There was a problem with his dad’s credit card. They would have to have his signature in order for us to use it for our room. (No one had mentioned this to them when they made the reservation.) Maybe Don had a credit card we could use just for tonight? Uh, no. Well, no problem, they could fax his dad the form and he could sign it and fax it right back. Great, except that his parents don’t have a fax machine. We asked if he could give verbal permission over the phone. No. Could Don sign for him, with permission? No. Could we at least check in for the night and have him come down the next day and sign it? No. His dad would need to come in and sign it before we could check into the room. It was their policy.

His dad is 81 years old, currently can’t drive because of an injury, and usually goes to bed around 9:00 p.m. It was after 10:30 p.m., and the temperature outside was in the teens. There was snow and ice on the roads. We were exhausted, our luggage was strewn all over the lobby, the dogs were impatient, and we certainly didn’t want his dad to have to come down there, so in the end, Don was able to call his credit card company and get them to approve the charge on his own (cancelled) card. It only took us about an hour to get to our room from the time we got there.
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When we were finally there, I was whining to God about what an awful day we had had. He gently reminded me, as only He can, that nothing REALLY bad had happened. Yes, the drive in the snow was stressful, be we had arrived safely. Though we were rightfully upset about someone stealing Don’s card, he won’t have to pay for the charges that he didn’t make. We had enough cash to get there. We were tired, but we would get rested up, and the irritations of the day would pass.
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In the end, I had to be thankful. Thankful that we made it safely, for family, our dogs, and for the ways God took care of us. We did end up having a really good visit with his family, once the wild trip was behind us. The hotel even bent over backwards to make things up to us during the rest of our stay. Apparently, they felt bad for the "inconvenience" they had caused.
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So I must conclude that all is well that ends well, and come to think of it, the whole thing gave me something interesting to blog about!

Our Monster Family

A little "monster" fun, from our family to yours.

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Snake!

I just looked out my front window and saw this:Now, as women go, I am not too squeamish about this sort of thing, but this was right next to my front porch, which is right over a closet in our (finished) basement. It seemed to be crawling out of a crack in the porch as I watched. Where would this crack go but into our basement?

Just so you'll know, if I find this thing in my basement, I'm moving to Hawaii, where there are supposedly no snakes. Nice knowing ya.

A Funny Video

I don't post things like this too often, and it's only 42 seconds, but this is FUNNY. It made me laugh out loud at 6:30 in the morning, and that was before I'd even had my coffee!

Swiffer

This is nothing new, but it's a nifty little gadget.

(I stole this picture from their website, but I hope they'll forgive me since I am, after all, promoting their product for them at no charge.)

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Just pop on a cleaning cloth, wet or dry, and "swiff" away! (I think I've created a new verb.)The head rotates, so it easily slides under hard-to-reach places. (Please ignore the crud on my bread machine and my mixer.)

The wet cloths aren't quite as effective as mopping, but for a quick clean-up, I think Swiffers are great!

The Marshmallow Experiment

A study was done where young children were taken into a room and given a marshmallow. They were told they could either eat the marshmallow then, or wait until the adult returned, at which point they would be given another one. The adult would then leave them alone for 15 minutes. The children didn't know they were on camera. Here are some of their reactions:



As far as I know, I was never a subject of this experiment, but I have a pretty good idea what I would have done if I had been. This picture, taken of me at age 1, pretty well sums it up. That explains a lot, doesn't it?

Fly Paper

Some things in life are just too simple.

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You may remember me blogging about my fruit fly problem last summer. They nearly drove me crazy! Well, they're back with a vengeance.

I'm still smashing them one by one, but they multiply faster than I can kill them. I have tried a carnivorous plant. I haven't actually seen this plant eat any of them, so I'm not sure if it's helping or not.

I hung up my Amish bug catcher, which actually works moderately well, but not well enough to put a dent in my problem. The idea is you put fruit in here, and they fly in through a hole in the bottom and they can't fly back out. Please ignore how badly our door needs to be painted. Our dog Nash likes to keep it scratched up for us.

After my family came over for dinner this week and got fruit flies in their face, their food and everywhere else you could imagine, my brother suggested fly paper. Hmmm. Sounds too easy, but I was ready to try anything. I went to the store; it was remarkably cheap -- less than $2.00 for 6 rolls. I hung a strip in my kitchen window and within a few hours, it was covered! And my house was nearly free of fruit flies . . . living ones, that is. I won't gross you out by showing you a close up shot, but gross as it is, I would rather look at that than deal with the fruit flies. It even collected a couple of house flies too.

I put another strip on my bunny's cage (they seem to like her too), and it's doing its job. She is happy as a lark. I haven't seen her in such a good mood in a long time. Apparently they bothered her as much as they did me.

So if you, like me, have a house that's plagued with fruit flies, I encourage you to try this simple remedy.

Garage Sale

I had a garage sale today. It was my third one in four years. I kind of like to have them, though they are a lot of work. I didn't do as well as I had hoped, but not too terribly either. I sold a lot of small things but not many big ones.

After all my years of having garage sales, I have come to the conclusion that the majority of people who come fall into one of four categories:

1) The early birds - these people try to get there first to get the good stuff, which they will often turn around and try to sell for a better price on e-bay or at a flea market. They are professionals. If you advertise in advance, they will be knocking on your door an hour early or even the night before the sale begins.

2) The hagglers - I can see them coming. They have a certain look about them. They will try to talk you down on every single price, no matter how low it already is. It's best to decide in advance what you're willing to come down on so you won't be caught off guard. I don't usually come down on prices until the last couple of hours of my sale, because there is a pretty good chance someone will come after them and pay me full price.

3) The specific shoppers - These people will come and peek in or maybe ask you if you have a specific item (i.e. a baby stroller). If you don't, they will thank you and turn around and leave. If you do, boy are they excited!

4) The curious neighbors - They see that something is going on at your house, and they don't want to miss out on the excitement. They rarely buy anything substantial; if they do, they have to go back home to get the money for it because they hadn't planned on it.

There are a few just normal people. They may or may not buy anything. They just like garage sales.

Don't let these scare you off from having one. Just be prepared. I don't put signs up until I'm ready to open shop, but then I live in a prime location, so that is all the advertising I really need. Be ready to stand up the hagglers. Don't be offended by people who don't buy anything. And enjoy the chance to get to know your neighbors better.

Madmen Yourself

Here's a fun activity for those who are looking to waste a little time: you can madmen yourself. Apparently, Madmen is a TV show (which I have never watched), so now they have a website where you can make yourself into one of their characters.

First I did myself. I wasn't overly thrilled with it. They didn't have my hair. Oh well.

Then I did Don. Now, this is more like it. Not only does it look remarkably like him; the doughnut in his hand is the perfect finishing touch. He's always walking around church with a doughnut in his hand.Next I tried my dad. Well, I thought it was pretty good, but Don says he looks like Rush Limbaugh.
Here's a picture of both of them so you can compare.If you decide to Madmen yourself, please let me know. I want to see the finished product!

Friends at Last

I have recently reached the conclusion that after 2½ years, our dogs, Dasha and Nash, are friends.

For about the first 7 years of Dasha’s life, it was just her and me. She handled it pretty well when Don came into the picture, and enjoyed being doted on by 2 people instead of 1. She was rarely around other dogs and seemed to think of herself as one of us.

But then came Nash. Not only was he a lowly dog to be looked down upon, who somehow managed to rival her lofty position, but he was also an energetic puppy who tormented her endlessly. Granted, we tried to restrain him from completely ruining her life, but she still couldn’t stand him.

When she finally realized he was here to stay, she tried to make the best of it. She pouted, but went on about her business as well as she could. In spite of her ignoring and avoiding him, Nash actually seemed to like her, but, well, the feeling just wasn’t mutual.

But in the last few months, something has happened. Nash has hit a new level in his maturity and isn’t quite so energetic anymore. He still plays, but not incessantly. He tries to pull Dasha into his games, and one day I noticed that she actually seemed to be enjoying it. She would snarl at him and chase him down the hallway, but it would all end amicably. Then I noticed she didn’t seem to mind him snuggling up next to her on the bed. We used to separate them when we left the house, but now if we take him downstairs, she follows us. Then one day I caught her kissing him. In a sisterly sort of way, of course.

Finally, it hit me: she liked him! After 2½ years, they had become friends. Kind of like my little brother and me. Only it took us about 30 years.

A New Cell Phone

As I have blogged before, I am not a big cell phone user. It’s not that I’m not up on technology; it’s just not my thing. I have one, but mostly use it for emergencies only, and Don uses it on weekends to call his family because there are no long distance charges. I am on a family plan with my brother and several other family members, which we have been on for about 6 years, which is when I got this phone. I don’t need bells and whistles, just a functional phone, which this has been, until now. It won’t charge anymore. So Don and I went to the Verizon store Saturday to have them check it and possibly buy a new adapter.

The representative there tried hard to contain his laughter. They hadn’t sold adapters for that phone in years. I would need a new one. The cheapest one they had: $130.

I knew there had to be a better way and finally got the Verizon guy to admit that I could purchase a phone for cheaper somewhere else and have Verizon activate it. So we went to Best Buy.

They checked into my plan there and told me that I was eligible for an upgraded phone . . . since 2005. As it turned out, all I had to do was renew my contract for 2 years (which my brother or I would have likely done anyway), and I got this phone for free. It is so small, I’m afraid I’m going to lose it! But it has a camera (cool!) and lots of other gadgets I don’t need (the screen is even in color -- wow!). But they too were out of Kyoceras like my old one, so I really had no choice. Oh well.

Kids’ Photography

Kids today have many opportunities that we didn’t have. One of them is digital cameras. When I was a child I was rarely allowed take pictures because my parents didn’t want to waste the film. Even if I was allowed to take one, it would be days, weeks or even months before I got any feedback on my handiwork. But now, with digital cameras, kids can take all the pictures they want to and immediately see how they look.

My nieces are developing this skill. Here are some pictures my niece Gracie, age 8, took at my house the other day (I have omitted some of her “feedback” photos – most of those weren’t her fault anyway because Aunt Jill needs to learn to keep her eyes open for pictures). Sorry they’re all of me – those were the ones I got her to take because I couldn’t take them myself! My niece Hannah, age 7, took this picture of her dog Lexie recently.
My niece Abbie, age 5, also took a few while she was over. Well, maybe she still needs a little more feedback, but she’s getting there!
Hamburgers ready for grilling, from a 5-year-old's eye level.
I will have to say, this is a very nice picture of a potato. Maybe she saw the potato on my blog and thought that was something you are supposed to take a picture of. Or maybe there’s a deeper meaning there. . .

The Blessing of Electricity

I am blogging from the library. Why? The power has been out at our house for 4 hours.

I rushed home today because it was starting to storm and there was a tornado warning in our area. We have a finished basement that is a pretty good place to hang out during tornado warnings, so I brought the dogs down there and turned on the TV. I wanted to know what was going on with the weather. I finally got the TV on (no small task at our house), and about the time I did, "click." It went off. So did everything else.

No problem. I can just check the Internet. After all, my computer is a laptop with a battery. Well, maybe one problem. Our router is electric. OK, no Internet.

Well, at least I can call the power company and report the outage. I picked up the cordless phone. No dial tone. Oh. Guess it's powered by electricity too.

I'll have to read a book. I ran upstairs and got one and ran back down to the basement. Since it was storming outside it was kind of dark in there. I flipped the light switch. Oh. No light.

Never mind then. I'll just take a nap until Don gets home. The electric garage door will wake me up when he pulls in. Or, maybe not. I never fell asleep anyway so got to watch him sitting in the driveway trying to figure out why his garage door opener wouldn't work.

Why is it getting so hot in the house? Oh, no air conditioning. At least we can turn on the ceiling fan. No we can't. I'll make dinner then, ummm, without the stove, oven or microwave?

So we went out to eat, and when we got back, we still didn't have electricity (though I did finally think to call and report it from my cell phone).

I decided to open my garage door manually and come to the library where it's cooler and where I could use the Internet. Poor Don is at home in the hot house with the dogs. Reading a book, in the dark.

White Legs

I LOVE summer. I have very few complaints about it. But I do have one. White legs. Actually, I have white legs in the winter too, but so does everyone else, and it's acceptable to keep them covered then.

But now warm weather has set in (I am NOT, you understand, complaining about THAT). Which brings with it my dilemma.

I generally get some healthy color in my face, on my arms, and on my back if I wear a bathing suit. Not so with my legs. I can wear shorts every day, and my legs are still as white as they were in the middle of February.

The real problem with this is dressing up. Hose are no longer acceptable in the summer, at least in my neck of the woods, which means that I either 1) wear pants, or 2) wear a skirt and risk blinding people. I'm sure you can see the problem here. I have managed to find some skirts that come well below my knees so it's not so noticeable, so that's what I wear most of the time. But just consider yourself warned: if you see me coming toward you with bare legs, put on your sunglasses!

Stupid

"Stupid is not a nice word. Don’t say it." "Don’t call your brother stupid." These things have been instilled in me since childhood.

I heard someone use it the other day. My first thought was, "that’s not a nice word," but the way they were using it was very appropriate.

A lot of things are stupid. People thinking they can define marriage as being anything other than what God created it to be. People thinking they can decide when human life begins so they can justify murder. People being offended by any mention of God or prayer when they are living in a country that was founded on Christian principles. Refusing to teach kids about abstinence but instead offering them birth control, abortions, venereal disease treatment and drugs for depression. High school teachers being penalized for even mentioning the fact that the theory of evolution has many holes in it. Having more concern for criminals and terrorists than for their victims.

What happened to common sense? It seems we have lost it entirely. Maybe if we weren’t so concerned about being politically correct, we could step back and look at all the stupid behavior that is going on in our country and call it what it is!

The Advantages of Being Sick

I woke up yesterday morning under the weather, not feeling well, okay, let’s face it, SICK. I felt horrible. I think I have gotten what Don has had for at least 2 weeks. I don’t know why I didn’t get it before now, and it’s not encouraging that he is still feeling bad more than 2 weeks later.

I had to miss church, which was a bummer. And we were going to play one of my favorite hymns, "Victory in Jesus," too.

But enough whining.

There are advantages of being sick. For example, both of my dogs took care of me. Dogs seem to have a sense about things like that, and they both stayed by my side all day long, being very sweet.

Don was nice to me too. Not that he isn’t usually, but when we first got married, he didn’t have much compassion for me when I was sick. One Sunday morning I woke up so sick I could hardly walk, and he said, "We’ll get you a barf bag to take to church." Needless to say, that didn’t go over too well with me. I don’t expect to be babied, but a little sympathy would be nice. Well, over the 3½ years we’ve been married, I’ve been working on him, like taking care of him when he is sick. He’s slowly learning.

Being sick also reminds me that I am basically fairly healthy and feel pretty good most of the time, but rarely take the time to be thankful for it, until it gets taken away from me for a few days.

Probably the biggest advantage of being sick is Thera-Flu. Now, I don’t take drugs very often, but when I’m sick and I can’t sleep, that is a very miserable thing. A few years ago a friend introduced me to Thera-Flu. You pour a powder into hot water and drink it. Within a half an hour you’re in la-la land. I only take it at night unless things are really bad, but if you ever take this during the day, plan on being out of commission for at least the next 3-4 hours.

Anyway, I feel a little better today, though still not up to par. I have a fairly busy workday, so I’m trying to get myself psyched for it. I have a weird schedule, so my plan is to go out and work a while this morning, come home and take a nap if needed, and then one more group late this afternoon. Hopefully I’ll survive.